


built on hope

by ofhobbitsandwomen (litvirg)



Series: got a hold on me [6]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Coda, F/M, some more making out with a splash of emotional clarity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 01:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9524987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litvirg/pseuds/ofhobbitsandwomen
Summary: "He hadn’t wanted, not like this, not for a long time. He had to swallow back the urge to lick his lips.“Welcome home,” he said instead. He wanted to laugh at how quickly she could fill his head. How overwhelmingly she could take over a mind that was supposed to be a machine for the cause. How he was naive for even entertaining the thought of her.Instead he let himself tilt forward."





	

He had always known the council would back away from a fight. Especially one with odds like this. Deep down in his gut he had known it all along, but he’d pushed it to the back of his head. He couldn’t let it surface or everything he’d done would pile around him. Bodies of men he’d let die, of men he’d abandoned to escape, of men he’d killed on orders or to increase his chance of survival, to save a partner. They would surround him, they would come back and stack around him one by one, suffocating him.  

So he followed orders. For the cause. He did what he was told all the while knowing that allegiance to the cause and allegiance to the council were never quite the same. He’d muddled them together for just long enough to get by, just long enough to stake his claim in the rebellion, and the council had let him. They’d aligned with his ideals just enough for him to forget, if he needed to, that they weren’t what he was fighting for. That the fight was bigger than the circle of diplomats around the table calling the shots. 

The illusion that kept him in his place, following orders, shattered at the same moment Jyn’s face fell, the moment she’d realized they were surrounded by councilors who couldn’t muster up enough bravery to bear the truth. He’d slipped out with Jyn’s voice trailing behind him as she repeated the words he’d spoken to her earlier on Jedha. 

_ “Rebellions are built on hope.”  _

It was time, he knew. To pay for all he’d done. To step into the fate it seemed he was always bound to have, no matter how many times he’d escaped it since the first time when he was six years old. 

He gathered the men he knew would follow him. The men with hands too dirty to shake hands with councilors and diplomats. The men like him who were ready, finally, for their final redemption. Ready for one last fight for the cause. 

He gathered them all and practiced his speech. He didn’t have to explain himself to her, he knew. He wasn’t the only one with shadows lurking in his past, with things tucked away that he would never talk about. Their argument from before was gone, unimportant and small. But he wanted her to know. He wanted to stand in front of her and say everything he’d shoved down. He wanted to let her know that he knew exactly how dirty his hands were, that he was done running from his own shadow. 

If there was anyone who would understand it all, it was Jyn. 

“I couldn’t face myself if I gave up now,” he admitted to her. He didn’t let his eyes stray from hers as he spoke the words he’d been pushing back all his life. His life, which, he was telling her, hung in the outcome of the rebellion in more ways than one. “None of us could.” 

She smiled at that, like it was a point of pride. 

The bodies shuffled around them, gearing up, running between them and the ship they were about to board. A few cut through the two of them, making it hard for him to step the few breaths closer to her that he wanted to. When he finally reached her, he could see a light dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks and her eyes both softer and more intense than he’d seen them since they met. 

“I’m not used to people sticking around when things go bad.” 

It was a day of admissions. 

He saw a new hope flare up inside her, sparkling in her eyes before she had a chance to hide it. Strangely, he realized, she wasn’t even trying to hold it back. 

He stepped forward.

Her lips looked dry and chapped. She was so close, it would be easy to reach out and grab her. Her eyes left streaks of heat dripping down his skin, trailing up and down as she followed his movement. 

It clicked into place, slamming into him all at once and Cassian felt a bit foolish for not recognizing it before. Maybe it had been another method of self preservation, kicking in, throwing a wall up every time the thought got too close to the front of his mind. But he knew it now, why he felt like a stone had dropped into the pit of his stomach when he saw her on the landing with Galen, why her words to the council stuck in the back of his head as he gathered his men. It was new and unfamiliar, and in any other circumstance would it would scare the hell out of him, but he couldn’t stop himself from cataloguing the sudden ache in his gut as a new and pleasant one, marking it down in his mind as decidedly  _ Jyn _ .  

He hadn’t wanted, not like this, not for a long time. He had to swallow back the urge to lick his lips. 

“Welcome home,” he said instead. 

But she didn’t move away. He let his eyes trickle back down to her lips and watched as they slipped open, parting ever so slightly, and he listened for the sharp breath she sucked in when she realized he wasn’t turning away. 

He wanted to laugh at how quickly she could fill his head. How overwhelmingly she could take over a mind that was supposed to be a machine for the cause. How he was naive for even entertaining the thought of her. 

Instead he let himself tilt forward, like an imaginary gust of wind was blowing him closer to her. Shifting just enough that she could step back if she wanted to. Just enough that he was sure she could feel the heat coming off his body in waves, without actually touching her. Just enough to slow every thought in his head down so all he could hear was a dull humming and all he could see was the flush creeping up her neck, leaking into her cheeks. 

But she didn’t step back and he couldn’t hold himself off any longer. The dam had broken and he surged forward with nothing more than a quick quirk of his lips before he collided with her. 

He could feel Jyn’s hands wrestling with his shirt, bunch and pulling until he was flushed up against her and his whole body lit up at the contact. He was sure his face was red and burning, and he wondered how the tips of her fingers that had made their way up to his cheeks weren’t scorched at the contact. 

He gasped when she pulled away, gulping breaths down, an apology on his lips when the fist still clamped around the front of his shirt gave a solid tug, silencing any words that might have slipped through, and they were ducked around a corner, his feet having moved without his noticing. 

He hesitated briefly, a reluctant wave of somthing--sense or guilt or disbelief--washing over him but she grabbed his hands, covered in blood that he couldn’t wash off from crimes he couldn’t forget, and pressed them into her sides like she didn’t mind the stains they left. 

She was cracking, he realized. Opening up bit by bit, just like him. Slowly at first then uncontrollably, hoping for the best as she crumbled into him. He dipped into her, his mouth pressing into the skin of her neck, leaving bumps and shivers in little trails all down her collarbone, catching every piece she gave him, drinking them up and hoping for more. 

Jyn let him work his way down, from her ear to the tops of her breasts, her ragged shirt shoved as far down as he could get it without ripping it. But then her hands were back, grabbing onto him hungrily as she brought his head back up to hers. He let his eyes flutter open, watching as she studied his mouth, her cheeks red, her eyes blown wide. He watched as her tongue flicked out across her lower lip before she moved into him again. Each second was another wave, crashing over him with greater and greater force, setting a fire that started in his toes and shot all the way up to the tops of his ears. 

He could hear the footsteps pounding around them. He could feel the ticking clock they were ignoring, every second heavier and easier to brush aside than the last. His feet seemed like the only part of his body more concerned with their job, their  _ cause _ , the ever present threat of it all crashing down around them in a rumbling wave like on Jedha, as they shuffled between her, constantly moving. A dance between what he wanted and who he was. 

But he could feel her dancing too, and when they broke apart it was only for a moment that they let themselves stand there in the wake of it all. A quick nod, and her fingers brushing the corner of his smile down.

He watched as Jyn’s eyes fluttered back down to his lips, red and chapped and raw, and she nodded again. 

“Okay,” she said. 

He stepped back. It was the wrong time for a smile, he knew that. It was the wrong time for all of it. But it felt like a promise. A foolish promise they both knew would be broken in a matter of hours, but he nodded back, his stomach finally settling back into himself. 

“Okay,” he agreed. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ofhobbitsandwomen


End file.
